Return To The Land Of The Dead
by You-Can't-Catch-Me
Summary: Victor and Victoria, now at the age of twenty five, have been happily married for six years. But, when tragedy strikes them, can it be reversed, and can the madness following it be corrected? Discontinued.
1. A Miserable Family

**Okay, this is my first Corpse Bride fanfiction, and I apologize for its length. Enjoy and review! Oh, and this chapter is in Victor's POV.**

"D-Daddy?" a small voice came through the doors. I jumped up from my desk, knocking my chair over.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, and I whirled around. It was my six-year-old son, Vincent, and upon seeing him, I knew I had sufficient reason to jump: he looked just like me, from his pitch-black hair and wide, round eyes, to his skinny limbs and short feet. It was like time-travel.

"I d-didn't mean to f-frighten you, D-Daddy," he stuttered.

"You didn't frighten me," I said, giving him a small smile. "You merely startled me. I was just working very hard, and you brought me out of my thoughts."

Vincent smiled back at me. "W-Well, I didn't mean to," he said. "I j-just wanted t-to see what you were d-doing."

I propped my chair back up, picked up Vincent, and sat him on my lap.

"This," I said, gesturing to the butterfly I had been studying. "Is a new kind of butterfly my colleagues found in Africa. Part of my job is to draw it, and give it a name. They say that one day, I'll be able to take an expedition to a different country as well."

However, Vincent wasn't paying attention to me. He was staring at the butterfly, and stroking its glass container with his small, slender fingers.

"Sh-She looks s-so sad," he whispered. "Sh-she looks t-trapped, Daddy. Sh-she's so small and d-delicate, and she c-can't get out." He looked up at me, his wide eyes looking tearful. "H-Have you e-ever been t-trapped, like th-that?"

I lifted my head. _Emily, _I thought. _Emily was trapped. She's free now, though. She'll never have to lie under a tree in the cold ground ever again._

"No, little one," I said. "I've never been trapped like that. But once I'm finished drawing her, she'll have a nice big place to live."

"Sh-she's so b-beautiful, D-Daddy," he said. "S-so very b-beautiful."

I hugged Vincent closer to me. "You mustn't stutter so much," I whispered. He pulled away from me, and I could see him scowling.

"It's b-because of G-Grandmummy a-and Granddaddy, i-isn't it?" he said angrily, referring to my parents. "A-And Grandfather and G-Grandmother are plenty h-horrible, too! Grandmummy and G-Granddaddy think that I-I'm annoying! A-And G-Grandfather and Grandmother are j-just mean! Th-They think it's M-Mummy's fault th-that I t-talk so badly! Th-They yell at Mummy, a-and then sh-she has to g-go and cry on y-you!"

I was stunned. Victoria _would _get upset from her parents' lectures. They _would _say that Vincent's stuttering was her fault, and I _would _have to comfort her. It was happening more frequently, and since Victoria was being overly-emotional lately, she didn't need any help from her parents to shed tears.

"You're not supposed to see that," I said to Vincent, and that was all I could think of to say.

"_Victor!_" came a shrieky voice. I suddenly realized that it was my mother. "_Come down to dinner!_" I gestured for Vincent to go downstairs to dinner, and he obeyed. I sighed deeply, scribbled something into my notebook, and hurried downstairs. Unfortunately, I was hurrying too fast.

"Oomph!" I grunted, falling nearly face-first onto the marble floor of the Everglot mansion. I bit my lip to prevent myself from crying out something rude, as to avoid Maudeline's typical response to something like that: "What impropriety is this?"

I got back up on my feet, and scrambled to my place at the table: right next to Victoria.

"Darling, you worry me," she whispered.

"Well _I _was worried that your mother would get angry with me for being late to dinner again," I whispered back.

"Excellent point made," replied Victoria. "But I-"

"Daddy!" interrupted a high pitched voice, and then a clatter of metal hitting the floor. "Daddy! Daddy!"

I looked up from the meat that I had begun cutting. The voice belonged to my daughter, Vivian, who wasn't quite two, and roughly the size of a loaf of bread. The clatter was the sound of the fork she had dropped on the floor, to see what kind of a sound it would make. Vivian loved to make noise, probably because she could be a budding musician, or because her vocabulary was so small: just "Mummy," "Daddy," "Vivi," which was what she had shortened her name to, and, her favorites, "No," and "Mine."

"Mine!" shrieked Vivian, reaching for a fancy bowl of potatoes. "Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mi-"

"Silence that blasted infant, Victor Van Dort!" exclaimed my mother.

"Hush, Vivian," Victoria cooed from across the table. "Mummy will get you some food." Victoria put some small portions of food and a new fork onto Vivian's plate, and turned to Vincent. "Darling, please help your little sister if she needs it,"

"Y-Yes, M-Mummy," stuttered Vincent, as Maudeline and Finis Everglot rolled their eyes.

"No!" screamed Vivian, sticking a huge chunk of potato to her fork. "No, no, _no!_" And with that, in keeping with what she had been doing for the past several months, Vivian threw her fork across the table. I had to duck to avoid the mass of metal and vegetable. The fork skittered across the floor, landing very, very close to the wall.

"_What impropriety is this?_" asked Maudeline, standing up.

"My God!" I whispered to Victoria. "This has got to be a record!"

"Don't encourage it, Victor," she whispered back.

"I'm not," I replied. "She's just so strong! In two weeks, she'll be able to hit the wall with that fork!"

"Stop whispering!" demanded Finis. "Are you nothing but children? Victoria, I'd make you clean the floor, but it's beneath your dignity."

"You must teach that child to eat!" exclaimed Maudeline.

"Well," began Victoria. "Maybe if I could sit her on my lap during meals-"

"Nonsense!" yelled my mother.

"Not only is it nonsense! It's improper as well!" added Maudeline. "Don't be an idiot, Victoria!"

Suddenly, to our dismay, we realized Vivian had learned some new words during our confrontation.

"Stop! Improper nonsense!" she shrieked, banging her tiny fist on the table. "Don't be idiot!"

Victoria gasped, Vincent's jaw dropped, and I could feel my eyes widen. Maudeline rose angrily from the table.

"I'll teach you a lesson, you rodent!" she hissed. She raised her hand to hit Vivian. Tears filled Victoria's eyes, and Vivian began to bawl. However, as she was about to say something, Vincent stood up, and the blow hit him on the cheek. I could see him biting his lip to prevent himself from bursting into tears.

"H-How dare y-you," he stuttered angrily. "T-Try to hit my s-sister. If you h-had hit h-her instead of m-me, you c-could've injured her t-terribly. D-Don't ever try t-to do th-that ever again."

Victoria ran over to Vincent and stroked his bruised cheek. Maudeline followed her.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," she scolded. "You have created to terrible children in your womb, and let them be born as horrible demons from hell."

Finis stood up and walked over to me.

"And don't think it's not your fault," he said in his low voice. "I know full well that these wretched children are yours. You must teach that boy to talk properly." He turned so he was facing everyone at the table. "This meal is over. Now everyone, return to your quarters immediately."

Victoria picked up the still sobbing Vivian, and took Vincent by the hand. I stood next to Victoria, and we went upstairs as a solemn looking family.


	2. Someday

**Okay that chapter wasn't so long after all! It just looked long on my documenty thing, and took a long time to write, and now I'm getting annoyed because the first chapter was double-spaced! Oh, and this chapter is in Victoria's POV. Review! I'm also kinda PISSED OFF by all of the VictorEmily out there!**

When the children and I entered their nursery, Vincent hugged me, and began to cry. He wasn't letting out long, noisy cries, but silent tears and whimpers, with an occasional sob.

"It h-hurt, M-Mummy!" he moaned. "Sh-She hit m-me, and i-it r-really hurt!"

"I know it did, Darling," I coaxed, holding him closer, and stroking his black hair. "I know it did." He pulled away from me.

"I-I d-didn't want G-Grandmother t-to hit V-Vivian," he explained. "S-So I s-stepped in f-front of her."

"That was a noble sacrifice you made for your sister," I told him.

"Vivi!" exclaimed Vivian. "Improper! Idiot!"

"Don't say that, Vivian," I scolded. "Those aren't nice things to say."

"It w-was h-horrible," Vincent said, tears pouring down his thin cheeks. "G-Grandmother's hand w-was cold, l-like ice, b-but when sh-she hit m-me, it w-was like f-fire."

"Please, Vincent," I begged. "Don't talk about it anymore. I can't stand to even think of it. Now, let me see your cheek."

Earlier, there had been a large red mark in the shape of a hand on his cheek, but the mark was now turning into a bruise.

"You're right," I said. "It is awful. I'm going to help Vivian into her nightgown. Could you please do the same?"

"No!" shrieked Vivian, as I struggled to get her dressed. "No! No!"

"Yes, yes, yes," I replied, tickling her. Even when she was clothed, she still writhed away from me. When she managed to get away, she began to crawl at top speed, and then turned around and gave me a big smile. She hadn't yet learned to walk, even though she was several months from her second birthday.

I picked up Vivian, kissed her tiny forehead, and set her in her crib. After I had put out the lamp, I turned around, and saw that Vincent was in his bed. I walked over and kissed his sore cheek.

"Goodnight, Darling," I whispered. "Please try to forget tonight." And, with that, I closed the door and left the nursery.

My brain began to race, and my pulse quickened. I placed my hand to my midriff.

_Should I tell Victor? _I thought. _I'm not even sure yet…but I am sure in a distant way. Oh, God, I'm not ready to have another baby! Not with my parents acting so beastly to the children I already have! Maybe Victor already knows…maybe he can tell by my fussiness…oh God…_

I sighed, and walked into my bedroom…well, the one Victor and I shared, only to find him sitting as his desk, and crying as well. He cried the same way as Vincent. It was dead quiet, and I could hear every tear fall on the mahogany desk. I had never seen him cry sad tears before; he only cried tears of joy as far as I knew. It pained me to see him cry.

"Oh, Victor!" I whispered, feeling some tears roll down my cheek. "Don't cry!"

"Why are we here, Victoria?" he asked, staring out the window. "Why didn't we move after Vincent was born? Or after we were married?"

"I don't know why we're here," I said, lifting Victor from his seat and embracing him. "I don't know."

"I feel terrible," he sighed. "I just feel like such-"

"A bad parent," I finished. "I know, but it isn't our fault. It's our-"

"Parents," Victor finished for me. "I know. Will Vincent be all right?"

"He's terribly shaken," I said, feeling more tears in my eyes. "And he has a bruise on his cheek." Now, we were both crying.

We undressed silently and sadly. When Victor saw me in my nightdress, he simply gazed at me.

"I love you," he murmured.

"And I love you," I replied. We climbed into bed together, and Victor put out the light.

"Victoria?" he asked.

"Yes, darling," I answered. Victor moved closer to me.

"Someday," he told me. "Someday, we're going to move far away from here. We'll move to the country, and build a beautiful home. We'll move to the city, and build a sturdy, yet elegant house. We'll do anything you want."

"That," I whispered. "Would be wonderful."

**Well, that's chappy two. Make me happy by reviewing!**


	3. A Typical Day At School

**Hello, devoted readers! Welcome to Chapter 3! This chapter is from Vincent's point of view, and yes, he is a VERY SMART six-year-old. Hope you like!**

"Have a wonderful day at school, darling," my mother said to me as she kissed my forehead. I gave her a small smile and a hug in return. She deserved it. She looked very tired. I walked through the huge double doors of Everglot Manor, rucksack over my shoulder, on my way to school.

School. In my opinion, a lovely place. Away from my horrid grandparents, and a great place to learn new things all the time. One of the best things is that you have to be quiet, so I don't have to talk. It's so embarrassing to stutter all the time.

However, the thought of going to school sometimes makes me shudder. For example, there's Thomas Pritchard and James Locksley. They're the bullies. They call me "Wetsy" because I sometimes wet my bed- how they found out, I'll probably never know. They also call me "Half and half," because Daddy is the son of fish merchants and Mummy is aristocracy. I also hate it when they play nasty pranks on me, like the time they dumped a pail of dung on my head. I ran all the way home crying. And the teacher, Miss Payne, doesn't make things any easier. She's big and scary; it's not surprising that she is a good friend to Grandmummy and Grandmother. She's an old spinster who taught Mummy and Daddy when they were young. Whenever Thomas and James do horrible things to me, I'm the one who gets punished.

As I approached the school building, which was behind the town's only church, I was dismayed to see that Thomas and James were standing, blocking the door of the school.

"Hey, Wetsy!" taunted Thomas. "Isn't it a bit early to have soiled your britches?"

"Where'd you get that bruise on your face, Half and half?" asked James. "Did your Grandmother hit you again? Can't even win a fight against an old lady?"

"I-I h-haven't soiled my b-britches," I replied, feeling a flush go to my cheeks. "I-If you would k-kindly let me th-through…"

I was unable to finish my sentence due to the fact that James had shoved me into a nearby mud puddle. _Disgusting, _I thought, as I lifted my hand from the muck. It made an odd squishing sound.

"Ha!" laughed Thomas mockingly. "Looks like someone's taken to shitting as well!"

"Th-that's a vile th-thing to s-say," I scolded. I got up to face the bullies.

"What's that over there, Half and half?" asked James.

"I-I w-won't fall f-for-" Once again, I was interrupted. Without any sort of warning, James punched me in the eye. I fell into the mud again, only this time, face first. My eye began to throb with pain. I could feel tears in my eyes. When the bell rang, I knew that the Wrath of God would come down upon my head.

"See ya later, Wetsy!" called Thomas.

I slowly lifted myself up. I felt weak and defeated. I wiped the mud from my face. It hurt very badly, seeing as I now had two bruises on my face. The schoolyard was deserted. Did I dare walk into that building late, and covered with mud besides? I had ruined my school clothes, and it made me so sad to think of my dear, tired, Mummy having to clean the mud off. _My Grandparents should have to do it, _I thought, _They should have to clean every inch of mud off with their tongues._ I decided I would go inside the school.

I lifted my legs. _Thud, thud, thud. _The mud had completely soaked through my clothes, and had weighted me down. I opened the door to the school, and walked through, leaving muddy footprints behind me. My eye was hurting, and I was fairly certain it would swell. Being a creature of habit, I found the door to my classroom, and went inside.

I could feel all eyes on me. Girls gasped. Boys whispered amongst themselves. I could see, even with my swollen eye, the appalled look on my teacher's face.

"Master Van Dort!" she demanded. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I-I'm so s-sorry," I stuttered. "I-I f-fell in the m-mud."

"Sorry, indeed!" she shouted. "You are ten minutes late for class, and you look like a hooligan! Half of your face is purple from bruises! You have a lot of explaining to do, Vincent Van Dort! Open your eyes, boy!"

"I-I can't o-open th-the r-right one, ma'am," I replied. "It-it's s-swollen shut."

"Stop making excuses, and take your seat!" snapped Miss Payne. I nodded, and sat down.

I opened my desk to get out my book, but instead, I got a rather nasty surprise.

"_Fish!_" I shrieked, jumping up from my chair. I heard cruel snickers escape Thomas and James.

"What are you disrupting class for _now_?" demanded Miss Payne.

"S-someone p-put a l-live fish in m-my desk!" I stuttered. I could feel myself shaking. Now, the entire class was laughing.

"Maybe it smelled you, and tried to follow you in hopes of finding a mate!" taunted James.

I was angry now. "M-my f-father d-doesn't even w-work in th-the fish m-market!" I yelled. "H-he works a-as a-"

"_Silence!_" cried Miss Payne. "Class, take your seats!"

The morning was rough, and my hopes that morning recess might be more pleasant were fading quickly. When the time came, I tried my best to stay out of the other kids' way. But even climbing a tree in the schoolyard didn't help.

_Thwack!_ A snowball in my face interrupted my thoughts.

"Hey!" I cried, wiping the snow from my face.

"Hey yourself, you pathetic little bastard!" replied a girl I didn't know very well. "I heard your father was crazy!"

"I heard the same," Thomas chimed in. "I heard your dad married a dead woman!"

"I-I am _not _a b-bastard!" I exclaimed. "M-my p-parents are l-legally m-married! And w-what y-you said i-is a l-lie, Thomas!"

"Who can knock the little half-breed out of the tree?" James shouted.

"I can!" replied about twenty other kids.

And before I could do or say a thing, I was being pelted with snowballs at an alarming speed. I climbed down from the tree, and ran away as fast as I could. Then, I did something I had never dared before: I left the school grounds.

I ran away from that school, and I left the church grounds as well. I stopped to take a breath, and I found myself crying. My crying turned from quiet weeping, with occasional tears, to loud sobs and fast-streaming tears. I didn't want to go home. My grandparents would yell at me and my poor mother would be so upset! I looked around. I couldn't go to the town square, because someone would see me and question me. I couldn't think of anywhere to go where nobody would see me.

Suddenly, something caught my eye. _The forest. _Nobody would bother to look for me there. I walked across the footbridge, which led to a dirt path. I felt more at ease, walking along that path. For a moment, I forgot about all of my troubles.

But only for a moment. The path had come to a stop, and I gasped when I saw where it had taken me. I had come to the cemetery. I stared at the headstones, and at the giant, dead oak tree. It cast a shadow over the entire place; like a black veil of a widow in mourning, or even like the shadow of death itself. I felt myself tremble. I began to cry once more, and I sat in the snow next to a headstone. I tried to read it, but I had some trouble.

_Here lies Lord _hmm hmm.

_Died on the eve of his wedding to _hmm hmm.

_May he _hmm _rest in _hmm.

I looked at the date of death. It was 1890, and the day before my parents' wedding anniversary.

**Dunh dunh DUNH! Well, there's chapter 3 after all this time. Please be nice and review!**


	4. Evil Deeds

**This has got to be one of the shortest chapters I've ever written. But anyway, it's still chapter 4. So, please R&R.**

The face was all too familiar.

_I've been waiting six years for this, _he thought. _And now, the time has come._

The sinister man with evil intentions readied himself. He had the knife, and he had already uttered the incantation from a book he had stolen.

He watched his enemy's activities for hours.

_For best results, perform spell at night, _he remembered. He stared through the ground like it was a window. His vision was terrible, but his enemy's face was unforgettable. The young man had been crying for a long time, and the sun was finally going down.

_Hopefully he won't decide to pack up and go home, _the sinister one thought. _He's obviously married by now, and he probably has children. But why on earth is he sitting here, crying his eyes out?_

The church bell chimed six times, and now, the sky was dark. The sinister man's enemy looked as if he was going to leave. And at that point, the man struck. His enemy screamed.

"I've waited _years _for this!" he roared. "And now, I can carry out my deeds! Goodbye, Victor Van Dort!" And with that, he plunged the knife into his enemy. As he fell down dead, he felt a curious change come over him. He felt full of life once again! His former self was restored! Or, so he thought.

"What in God's name…" he began, but he looked down at his hands. They were still the deathly blue. But, what part of his plan had failed?

He looked down at his dead enemy, and realized his mistake. He began to shake with rage.

"_Oh my God, no!_" he moaned. "_I've killed the wrong one!_"

And with that, the half living Lord Barkis Bittern ran off into the darkness.

**Muahaha. Sorry for the shortness. Please review anyway.**


	5. Catching Up With A New Arrival

**Chapter 5 is here! In the first person, we have a character we know and love… but I won't keep it a mystery. R&R, please. BTW, this chapter starts around noon Land of the Living time.**

I was tired. I stretched my arms, taking care to see if one of them had come off. The dressing room at the Ball and Socket Pub was small and shabby, but it was a fine place to relax after a show. After all, I had been dancing, singing, and playing the piano since nine in the morning.

"Long performance, eh, Emily?"

I turned around, and saw that Mrs. Plum, the proprietress of the pub, and my good friend, had come through the curtained entrance of the dressing room. I smiled back at her.

"Long performance, indeed," I said with a yawn. "Where's Bonejangles?"

"Went for a drink, near half an hour ago," Mrs. Plum paused, and shook her head. "Drunk as a lord already."

I giggled, and Mrs. Plum began to leave. "Don't smack him too hard!" I called.

I lounged on one of the old coffins, and slept for a while. I must have slept for a long time, because Bonejangles woke me up…and was walking straight.

"Hey there, Em," he said in his usual raspy way. "Almost curtain for the evening show." I groaned.

"Oh, God," I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "I've slept too long."

"Yeah," he replied absently, shifting his eye from one socket to the other. "You're gonna need it. We're goin' late tonight." I yawned.

"C'mon, baby, wake up!" he exclaimed, grabbing my arm. It came off, and slapped him across the face.

"You're so insensitive!" I shouted, suppressing a giggle.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, challengingly. "So then, why'd ya marry me?" He grabbed me and wrapped me in a hug. I tried to "escape" but I couldn't, so I started yelling.

"_Help!_" I cried as loudly as I could, with full-blown laughter. "Help! I'm being attacked!" He growled, and we fell on the ground in a tickle fight.

Mrs. Plum stampeded in, truncheon in hand.

"Will you two knock it off?" she demanded. "I'm trying to run a _somewhat nice _place here, and you two having a romp in the back room isn't going to help!"

"We were doing no such thing!" I shouted.

"Yet," said Bonejangles, smiling at me.

"No backtalk!" Mrs. Plum yelled, smacking her truncheon against her hand.

We both looked up. "Sorry," we said in unison.

"Get off the floor," she said, less demandingly. "You need to get to your entrance spots. Curtain's in five."  
"Thank you, five," we groaned.

"Cheated out of a free peep show," muttered a voice from inside my head. I yanked the Maggot out of my ear.

"Shut up!" I reprimanded. "Who asked _you _to get a view of my intimate relations?" I set him down on the bureau next to a cracked mirror. "Stay here for _this _performance."

I walked to the stage right entrance, and Bonejangles went to the stage left entrance. He and the Bone Boys would open the show, and I would come in later. It was almost time, when…

"_New arrival!_" cried Mrs. Plum, ringing a bell. The entire pub erupted into pandemonium. I looked across the way, and noticed my husband had gone to greet the newly dead.

Through the crowd, I could see some familiar traits: skin, that was once a pale white, now blue. Dark hair, and eyes even darker. I could think of only one person.

"Victor!" I cried. "Victor! It's wonderful to see you! Well, I'm sorry you died so young, but, you're here!"

He turned to face me. From a distance, he had looked like Victor Van Dort, but instead, it was a young boy that looked just like him.

"Help me!" he cried, curling up on the floor. "Where am I? Who are you? Why did you call me by Daddy's name?"

Something in my head connected. _Of course, _I thought.

"Little boy, we need to talk," I said, taking him by the hand.

"Wait! Who are you?" he asked. Then, he clasped a hand to his mouth. "My stutter! It's gone!"

I led him to the alley behind the pub.

"Now, we can get away from the noise," I said. I turned to face him. "Did you say your father's name is Victor?"

"Yes, Miss…er…Miss…"

"Emily."

"Emily," he said again, getting the feel of the name. "Yes. Daddy studies butterflies."

"Butterflies? Hmm…no fish cans?"

"Daddy was going to do that. But Grandaddy is still in charge of that business."

"What's your name?"

"Vincent F. Van Dort, Miss Emily."

"So, you're the new Master Van Dort?"

The boy jumped up. "How do you know all about me?" he demanded.

"I know your father," I replied. "We met a long time ago, before you were born. In fact, it was before he even married Victori- er…your mother."

He furrowed his brow, in the same way Victor did. "So, _you're _the nice lady Mummy told me about?" he asked. "You're the Emily that helped her fall in love with Daddy?"

I was shocked, and I felt my mouth hanging open. After stealing her fiancé, and causing events that made her look like a crazy woman, she would tell her only son that I was a nice lady? That brought up another question.

"Are you an only child?" I asked.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "I have a sister. She's almost two. Her name is Vivian. She looks like Mummy a lot." I smiled, and touched his cheek.

"Where did those nasty bruises? Were you attacked?"

"No. I blocked Grandmother from hitting my sister, and then I got punched at school."

"Is that how you died?"

"_Died!_" he squealed. And just like that, he fainted. I mentally kicked myself for frightening the little boy.

As I called for help, I couldn't help but think, _What will his father do?_

**The end of Chapter five. Hope you enjoyed the Emily POV. Review!**


	6. An Unfortunate Victim

**Chapter six! Here's a Victoria POV. I fixed it up.**

"I've had enough of this!" I cried in frustration. I slammed my teacup down, and Victor flinched, as if it would shatter into a million pieces.

"Blam!" Vivian shouted, slamming her doll on the floor, as if trying to imitate me.

"Please don't do that, sweetheart," Victor said, smiling gently at her. He turned to me. "Enough of what?"

"It's getting dark out, and Vincent is still gone!" I exclaimed. "Where do you think he is?"

"Good God, I hadn't even noticed!" Victor cried.

"Good God! Blam!" Vivian shouted, rapping her doll's head furiously. We chose to ignore her this time.

"Should we go to the school?" I asked. "They would know where he is."

"Perhaps he made some friends, and decided to go with them," Victor tried. "He _is _very smart."

"That's true," I sighed. "But those children are cruel. Even his teacher hates him!" I moved closer to Victor on the loveseat, and put my head on his shoulder. He, in turn, caressed my arm. However, Vivian had to interrupt. She hadn't had any vocabulary-based outbursts for some time, but that's probably because she was listening.

"_Good God!_" she shrieked, hitting the doll against the floor. "_Go to school! Don't do that! Vincent gone! Children are cruel! Enough of what? His teacher hates! Blam!_"

"That is _quite_ enough!" I shouted. I stood up, to walk toward her. But I paused.

I felt a little flutter from within me. It was a very familiar kind, that I was fairly certain I had felt before. It was the feeling of a baby within. I felt faint all of a sudden, and decided to sit back down.

"I'm just tense," I said with a sigh. Victor smiled at me.

"Well, I have something to ease the tension," he whispered, and I smiled back at him. He stood up, and walked over to the piano. He began to play, and I felt my eyes begin to flutter dreamily.

"_Stop playing that piano!_" Mrs. Van Dort called. Victor stopped abruptly, and sat back down next to me.

"I wrote that piece," he muttered. I kissed him on the cheek.

We sat for some time, in quiet. Vivian had gotten bored of her shrieking and doll-slamming, and decided to crawl up in an armchair. She soon fell asleep, and we enjoyed the silence.

However, that peaceful quiet was broken by the town crier and his bell.

"_Hear ye, hear ye!_" I heard him call from the outside. "_Child found murdered in graveyard!_"

I didn't bother to listen to the rest. I ran to get my shawl.

"Victoria!" Victor cried. "Don't think that way!"

"I have to know," I replied shakily. "Get your coat, and put Vivian to bed." I was halfway to the door at that point.

I stood outside, waiting for Victor. It was cold outside, but it seemed even colder. Victor soon dashed out to meet me, and we walked hurriedly to the graveyard. There was quite a crowd.

I caught sight of the murdered child. It was a little boy, with dark hair and black clothes, though it was impossible to tell, unless you knew him. There was a knife wound in his chest, and blood and dirt covered his tiny body.

"Oh my God," muttered Victor. Tears welled up in his eyes. I took another look at the scene. Even though there were tears in my eyes, I could read the headstone of the grave he was on.

"Lord Barkis," I murmured.

And that was all I could remember.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke in my bed. In the candlelight, I could see Victor. I heard him crying. I suddenly recalled what happened, and joined in the weeping. We said nothing for the longest time, until Victor finally spoke up.

"You fainted," he said quietly. I dabbed at my face with a handkerchief, but to no avail. The tears would not stop falling.

We silently changed into our nightclothes. I looked in the mirror at my changing shape, and felt so guilty.

_A life for a life, _I thought. _I mustn't tell Victor._ I prayed that my secret would not be revealed by my thin chemise. But was there a God left to pray to? My child was dead.

I slipped back into bed, very close to Victor. I nuzzled my head in his neck, and he held me very tightly. He felt so strong, and yet, he was trembling.

"It's so cold," I couldn't help whimpering. Victor placed a hand on my arm, but still shivered.

"I feel cold as well," he added in a gentle whisper. He hesitated a moment, and continued. "What do you think…well…"

"I have no idea what he was doing at the cemetery," I finished for him. "But, what was so strange, was that he was on top of Barkis' grave." I felt one of Victor's tears fall next to me. He looked down to face me.

"You look so beautiful," he murmured. He moved his face closer, and kissed me. My eyes fluttered, and closed.

"Please, Victor," I whispered. "Don't do this. Not tonight." I felt myself crying again. Victor didn't move.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I love you."

"As do I Victor," I replied. Through my tears, I kissed his cheek.

"I don't think I can sleep," I said moments later.

"I'll stay awake with you," Victor replied.

"Seeing Vincent, dead like that-"

Victor pressed a finger to my lips. "Don't think about it," he interrupted.

I broke out into sobs. "I don't _want _to think about it!" I cried. "But I can't stop thinking about it!"

"Nor can I, love," he whispered in return. I felt him tremble once more.

And we just stayed there, crying ourselves to sleep.

**Sniff. Please review.**


	7. Funerals And Dreams

**Here's chapter seven, and a Victor POV. Another sad chapter.**

I had never seen anybody cry for such a long time.

We had the funeral as soon as possible, and until then, Victoria did nothing but cry. It was three days after Vincent died that the funeral took place.

The church looked drearier than ever, and Victoria curled on the floor in a fetal position and cried upon seeing the tiny coffin. I hurried to help her up, but her mother beat me to it. She yanked her off the floor by the arm, and slapped her across the face.

"Don't you _dare _disgrace yourself in such a way!" she demanded.

"I'm sorry!" Victoria wailed, running over to me. She rested her head on my shoulder, and sobbed even more. Lady Everglot shot me a nasty glare, and I returned it.

Victoria suddenly lifted her head, and looked around. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Where is Vivian?" she asked through tears.

"She's nearby, love," I whispered. But nearby wasn't enough for her. She pulled away from me, and picked up the little girl.

The funeral itself was terrible. Victoria and I were the only ones crying, and everybody was staring at us like we were crazy. And Vivian, who was not even two, had a look of immense sadness on her face.

_Does she know? _I wondered. _Does she know her big brother isn't coming back?_

But the reception was the worst part. At one point, Victoria fainted, and Vivian began screaming and crying. Everyone tried to express their condolences, but that didn't help. It was their eyes that said, _I hate you, and I hated your son. Thank God he's dead!_

After the reception was over, we went to the cemetery. Victoria had come to, and was bawling once again. It was difficult to hold my wife and my daughter, now my only child, but I managed. It was even harder to see out son lowered into the ground, and I found myself trying to suppress sobs. He was being buried by the oak tree that Emily had died under. And when the coffin was dropped heartlessly into the ground, without a single kind word, Victoria fainted again, Vivian in her arms. I caught her just in time.

We all went back home after that. I felt empty and cold, even with wriggling little Vivian in my arms. Victoria, who was propped upright across from me in the carriage, looked the same. Vivian slid from my arms onto the floor, and began stamping her feet.

"_Vivian,_" I whispered. "_Stop that!_"

"No," she replied.

"Yes," I said a little more loudly.

"No!" she shouted.

"Yes!" I said again, getting angry.

"_No!_" she shrieked, stamping her feet furiously. "_No! No! No!_"

Victoria opened her eyes.

"What happened?" she asked weakly. I scooted to her side of the carriage, and stroked her hair.

"You fainted again," I said gently. "You missed the burial." Her eyes grew teary as she stared at me.

"You…you look…so much like him," she said in a choked whisper. Upon her words, I found that my eyes had tears in them as well. Vivian stopped stamping her feet, and crawled up to us. She patted Victoria on the shoe.

"Dere, dere," she whispered. "Everything going be all right." Victoria looked down at the child, and then at me.

"I say that to her," she said, her voice trembling. "She knows something is wrong."

We arrived at the house around noon. Victoria picked Vivian up and got out. I followed close behind, just in case Victoria were to faint again. Vivian flailed her arms, and whined.

"Oh, it must be time for your nap," Victoria sighed. She hurried along to the front door, which Emil hurriedly opened. She went inside quickly, but I walked slowly. As I walked in, I hesitated for a moment.

All of a sudden, I was able to remember everything that happened, and everything that had come and gone through that door. I remembered myself, nineteen-year-old Master Van Dort, the young, shy man who was interested in butterflies and music, and terrified of marriage. I remembered nearly two months later, when Victoria became so violently ill that I had rushed her to the town doctor, only to receive the biggest news of my life, and rushing to the same doctor six months later, frantically announcing that our baby was being born a month early, and nearly the same process four years later. And of course, all the normal days when I left the house. Now, I was coming from our son's funeral.

After much thought, I went upstairs to our bedroom. I sat at my desk, and stared out the window. Victoria burst through the door, sat on the bed, and began to cry. I rushed over to her side.

"What happened?" I asked.

"It's Vivian!" she sobbed. "I was putting her to bed, and she refused!"

"Refused what?" I questioned.

"She refused to take her nap!" Victoria bawled. "She…she wouldn't do it unless…unless Vincent came to see her!" I was stunned, and I began to cry with her.

"She asked when he was coming back," she said more quietly as she wiped her face with her handkerchief. "How do you explain such a thing to such a little girl?" I wrapped my arms around her.

"I don't know," I admitted. "I really don't know."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"_Stop it!_" I heard Victoria cry. I sat up, realizing I must have fallen asleep at my desk. I ran downstairs to see what was wrong.

In the dining room, I found Victoria standing before the enormous table. At the table were the Everglots and my parents. They all had full wineglasses before them.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked.

"Why, we're celebrating!" exclaimed Lord Everglot. I could tell he had drunk quite a lot of wine.

"There's _nothing _to celebrate!" Victoria screamed.

"She's right," I agreed. "Your grandson is dead, and you're all sitting here, drunk as pigs! Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?"

My response was a blast of laughter. My heart sank, and I knew it was hopeless.

Victoria and I couldn't eat, so we went straight to bed. Despite the nap I had earlier, I went right to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Daddy!" Vincent cried happily. He waved at me, and I rubbed my eyes. His once pale skin was now a bright blue, and he didn't speak with a stutter.

"Vincent!" I cried. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't have much time," he explained. "Your friend showed me how to do this."

"Hello, Victor!" cried a very familiar young woman.

"_Emily?_" I asked in confusion.

"If you and Mummy want to come to the Land of the Dead," Vincent continued. "All you have to do is say-"

"'Hopscotch'!" I interrupted.

"Exactly," Vincent said. "Now, make sure you tell Mummy. And bring Vivian sometime!" The image before me started to fade.

"No!" I cried.

"Goodbye!" Emily called.

And I woke up just then. I began to shake Victoria.

"Victoria, wake up!" I whispered. She groaned, and stretched her arms.

"For God's sake, it's the middle of the night," she mumbled.

"It's Vincent!" I said. That seemed to wake her right up. "Vincent came to me in a dream!"

"In a dream?" she asked. "What did he say?"

"He looked very happy, but he was still dead," I explained. "He says there's a way for us to come see him!"

**Abrupt ending for Chapter seven! Please review.**


	8. What To Do?

**Chapter eight! As if anybody's reading this! I never get reviews anymore. Anyway, this is a Vincent POV.**

"Do you think it worked?" I asked.

"Of course," replied Emily. "Elder Gutknecht is right about these things."

A raven crowed, and Elder Gutknecht coughed.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Nothing, Elder Gutknecht," Emily called up to the old skeleton.

The Elder came down, and began to talk quietly with Emily.

"So Barkis has totaled up to two murders," he muttered.

"And two attempted," Emily whispered.

"Who is Barkis?" I asked impatiently. Elder Gutknecht looked incredulously at Emily.

"So you haven't told the boy?" he queried. Emily blushed.

"Well, no," she confessed. "He turns sick whenever I bring up his death. And he's only six, Elder Gutknecht."

"His age doesn't matter now," Elder Gutknecht said. "So, what _have _you been doing with him?"

"I don't know what he's been up to," Emily admitted. "I've been so busy-"

"You don't mean to tell me that he's been wandering around the Land of the Dead by himself?"

Emily began to cry. Her legs gave out, and she fell. "I've never really cared for a child before!" she sobbed. Her eye popped out, and rolled onto the floor. "I don't know what to do! I don't know what to say! _I don't know anything!_"

"My dear, I know you've been through quite an ordeal," Elder Gutknecht said, helping Emily off the floor. He picked up her eye, and handed it to her. "But we mustn't over dramatize. Like you said, the boy is six years old. It's not as if you have an infant on your hands!"

"Or a toddler," I couldn't help but add. "My sister is almost two, and she's quite a handful." The Elder smiled at me.

"Or a toddler," he said.

"But I can't leave him at the Ball and Socket alone either!" wailed Emily. "B.J. and I are performing, and-"

"Perhaps the boy could take part in performances," suggested Elder Gutknecht.

"Oh, yes!" I cried. "I'd love to see you dance and sing, Emily, and I'm quite good at the piano."

Emily smiled, and put her eye back in. "Victor's…er…your father's fingers flew across the keys to any piano," she sighed. "In fact, I think the piano in Everglot Manor was how he fell in love with your mother."

"They never told me that," I said quietly.

"There are a lot of things they didn't tell you," Emily replied. "Take me, for example. Your father never told you about his corpse bride."

I was stunned. Bride? Daddy was married _twice?_

"Thank you, Elder Gutknecht," Emily said. "He will be a marvelous pianist. Come along, Vincent. There's someone else I'd like you to meet." Someone else? I'd met almost everyone. Who else was there?

We left the Elder's study, and were once again in the streets. Emily led me back in the direction of the Ball and Socket. Instead, however, we turned into an alley. Tied to a crate was a dog. It was completely skeletal, but it was still a dog, and it was excited. As soon as it saw me, it jumped in the air, and did all kinds of tricks.

"Scraps!" exclaimed Emily. "Victor isn't here, silly!"

"Scraps?" I asked. "You mean, that's Daddy's dog?"

"I'm afraid so," Emily said with a grin. "I thought you'd like to have someone besides me keep you company."

"That shouldn't be a problem," I replied. "For some reason, everyone down here knows me… or at least, they know Daddy."

"It's a long story," Emily said. "But I'll leave its telling up to your parents."

"Hey Em!" called a raspy voice from the Ball and Socket's side door. "We're on in fifteen!"

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Emily exclaimed. "Bonejangles, come here!" A skeleton with a large jaw, one eye, and a gray bowler hat stepped out from the door.

"You'll never believe the talk I've been hearin', Emily," he was saying. "They're all saying Van Dort has…" He stopped, and looked at me.

"Victor is _not _dead," Emily said firmly. "I was just about to introduce you to his son."

"Son?" Bonejangles asked. "They've only been married six years!"

"Well, I guess they aren't as shy as we thought they were," Emily stated. "Please, B.J., he's six years old."

"I figured that," he muttered. He bent down to face me. "So, what's your name?"

"Vincent," I replied. "Pleased to make you're acquaintance, sir."

Bonejangles turned to face Emily. "Victor, Victoria, and Vincent," he said.

"There's also a Vivian," Emily replied. "Get back backstage. Hopefully you won't be so drunk by then." Bonejangles took some odd, tottering steps back through the door.

"That was my husband and co-star," Emily explained. "A long day usually gets to him."

"Indeed," I replied. "Emily, are you sure I'll be _safe _here?"

"Of course!" Emily cried. "Why, Mrs. Plum smacks down anyone who _begins _to utter a dirty word! Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," I said. "May I stay here with Scraps?"

"Yes, but don't stay out too late," Emily replied. "The drunken louts will spend time in these alleys before going back to the flats."

"Flats?" I asked. "Is that where we live?"

"Oh, goodness!" exclaimed Emily. "I forgot! Yes, you'll have your own little place to live down here. I'd best be going. I'm on in ten minutes, at least!" Emily rushed through the door.

I just sat on one of the crates, playing with the little dog. But, eventually, I got bored of uttering commands over and over, so I decided to go inside the Ball and Socket.

I was nearly knocked down by the smell of it. Beer mixed with smoke isn't exactly what might caress one's nose. I saw two kids, a boy and a girl, playing pool. They looked about my age, so I ventured over to them.

That's when I heard a loud cry, in a familiar voice:

"_Hopscotch!_"


	9. Reunion

**Chapter nine! Woot, woot! Enjoy! It's mostly dialogue, by the way.**

I held Victoria and Vivian close to me. A familiar fog covered us, and when it lifted, a strong smell filled my nose, and a blast of noise filled my ears.

"We're here," I whispered.

"Daddy!" came a familiar cry. I looked, and saw that Vincent was rushing toward us. I set Vivian down, and rushed toward him. I willed myself not to cry as I looked at him. However, I didn't do a very good job, and Vincent noticed.

"It's okay," he said, giving me a hug. "I feel just fine. You needn't worry about a thing." I laughed, knowing I needed very much to worry.

Victoria had picked up Vivian, and was rushing toward us. She, however, had chosen to cry.

"Vincent!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. Without a bit of hesitation, she embraced our little boy.

"Don't cry, Mummy," he said. "I'm all right."

"Your stutter!" Victoria said with a gasp. "It's gone!"

"I know," he said.

"Vincent! Vincent!" called Vivian. She stood up, and hugged her brother at the knees. Victoria and I gasped once more.

"She's standing up!" I cried, giving Victoria a hug.

"Don't you all look happy," said a familiar voice. I looked, and saw Emily, for the first time in six years. It was an awkward moment for me, but Victoria seemed perfectly poised.

"Hello, Emily," she said calmly.

"Hello, Victoria," replied Emily, in the exact same manner.

"Victoria?" asked another voice, though this one was not as familiar to me. But Victoria perked right up.

"Hildegarde?" she asked. A thin old woman with a bent back emerged from the crowd. My wife's face lit up, and she embraced her deceased friend. Victoria was crying hard now.

"Hush now, dearie," she cooed, as if Victoria were a little girl once again. "I'm just fine."

"I-I haven't seen you since Vincent was a baby," she choked.

"He's grown into a fine boy," Hildegarde replied. "And let's have a look at your little daughter!" She bent down, and picked up Vivian. "She looks just like you." Victoria wiped her face, and smiled.

"Victor, you've grown," came another familiar voice. It was a rather raspy voice, and one that I had heard years ago. I had heard it before in the same place, six years ago. I turned around.

"Perhaps, Mayhew," I replied. "Or maybe it's only because you're looking at me so close to my son." Mayhew hummed thoughtfully.

"It's good to see you again, that's all," he said.

"And you," I replied.

"Victor!" Emily called. "Come over and talk! I want to hear the whole story." I strode over to her, and sat down.

"There's not much to tell," I told her. "But if you want to hear it, I'll need help telling it." I called for Victoria.

"What is it?" she asked, handing Vivian to Hildegarde.

"Emily would like to hear what's happened over the past six years," I replied. Victoria's jaw dropped. Some onlookers had gathered around, wanting to hear as well.

"Yes, tell us!" Mrs. Plum cheered.

"Vincent's only given us bits and pieces," stated General Bonesapart. Emily smiled.

"You're really quite popular," she said. She waved her hand at the growing crowd. "Go away. They don't need an audience. Please, go drink yourselves silly, but stay out of this." The crowd murmured, and took Emily's suggestion.

"You certainly have control over this group," Victoria said with a smile.

"Oh, no," Emily replied. "Alcohol controls their afterlives. Now, go on. I want to hear all about your lives since I left them. Start with the moment I turned into those butterflies."

"Well," I said. "We watched you fly away. We kissed for the first time-"

"With no interruptions," Victoria added.

"And then…and then…" I began twisting and tightening my tie. Victoria, seeing where I was going, turned bright red. "Well, I can fairly say…er…Vincent's story began."

"Victor!" cried Victoria.

"In a church?" asked Emily. I nodded. "How romantic!"

"Ooh!" taunted a group of onlookers.

"Shut up," commanded Emily. "Go get drunk or harass some ladies like you normally do, or I'll smack you myself." The group went away, muttering.

Emily looked at us like a child looks like an adult reading them a book.

"Go on," she said sweetly.

"After that," I continued. "We headed back towards Everglot manor. I figured my parents would be there, begging Victoria's parents for more time to find me."

"And he was right," Victoria said, squeezing my hand. "Of course, we didn't have anything planned to say, so when we found my parents and his, we just stared."

"But it was Victoria who came up with something," I told Emily. "I had never seen a better dramatic performance in my life. She rushed to her parents, sobbing that Lord Barkis was dead, and had committed suicide in the church."

"I then told them it was Victor who had tried to stop him," Victoria added. "My mother, a proper woman, disapproved of suicide, and to her, killing yourself in a church was simply scandal."

"She must marry Victor!" I imitated. "No mourning will be done here!" Emily giggled, and turned to Victoria.

"You mother sounds like a nightmare," she said.

"Dear God," Victoria moaned overdramatically, but continued the story. "We married the next day, but the strangest thing happened…" Her voice trailed off, and I realized what she was talking about.

"I always wondered where that new dress came from," I finished. "Now that I think about it, it matched perfectly with your bouquet, Emily." She smiled.

"The spiders had seen your wedding dress that day in the church," she told us. "And we all thought you deserved a prettier dress, so we all helped the spiders in every way we could." Victoria stared in amazement, and then smiled.

"So the spiders were behind it?" she asked. "I would think that someone a bit more _human _would be in charge."

"All right, you caught me," Emily said. "But I did get a good deal of help from the spiders."

"So, anyway, we were married," Victoria continued. "And I don't know whether Victor's…er…_theory _about Vincent's conception is accurate, due to our wedding night." I smacked myself in the forehead.

"I forgot about that," I muttered.

"And Mrs. Plum lectures _us _for being too crazy!" Emily exclaimed. "God almighty, how much more of this am I going to hear?"

"'Us'?" I asked.

"Oh, just me and my husband," Emily replied. "Go on, please."

"We'll skip a few months," Victoria said. "Come February of the next year, I learned of the newest addition to the Van Dorts. I decided I would tell the entire family on that St. Valentine's Day, which turned out to be a mistake."

"I fainted at dinner," I clarified.

"Of course, Victor's parents were excited," she said. "But my mother and father were speechless, in a bad way. My mother finally started going on about how it was too soon, and my father just said, 'Make it a boy'."

"And she did," I finished. "Er…we did…I did…God did…" I mentally slapped myself.

"Anyway, we had Vincent," Victoria continued. "And from the moment he was born, both sets of grandparents were horrible toward him."

"Victoria was tired for a week," I said. "And I practically took care of him myself, aside from food. Our parents were disgusted by him."

"That's terrible!" exclaimed Emily. "Did it get any worse?"

"No, it stayed the same," sighed Victoria. "That is, until Vivian's coming was announced. The grandparents were horrified."

"They said they could hardly believe we were having 'another one'," I said.

"We explained to them that the new baby wouldn't be the same as Vincent," said Victoria. "We said he or she would be an entirely new person." She looked thoughtful. "Vincent was so excited for his new little brother or sister."

"Vivian _did _turn out to be an entirely new person," I said with a chuckle. "She was more like a little Victoria. She was very loud, and Vincent didn't really like sharing a room with her at first, but he warmed up to her."

"But our parents didn't," Victoria sighed. "Whenever Vincent did the slightest thing wrong, he was given wicked spankings. Vivian was yelled at in her cradle." Her eyes grew teary. "We've wanted to move away, but we don't have anywhere to go." She began to cry, and I gave her a little hug. I didn't even notice our children come up to us.

"Why is Mummy crying?" Vincent asked.

"Why crying?" Vivian said in a slightly fractured repetition. She banged her fist on the bench we were sitting on. "Damn!" Victoria stopped crying, and began laughing. Emily started laughing as well.

"I thought that makes you go to hell," Vincent said.

"I suppose that's what happens when you leave a toddler in a pub," Emily chuckled. "Who taught you that?"

Vivian pointed toward a skeleton that I recognized, and Emily's eyes widened.

"Yes, that will do it," she said. She knelt down next to Vivian. "My husband sometimes uses bad words. Don't repeat a thing he says." Vivian nodded, and began to crawl away with her brother.

Victoria was still laughing.

"Hopefully she won't say that in front of Mother," she chuckled.

"Oh, one more thing," Emily said. "Vincent told me you study butterflies. Why not fish cans?"

"You just don't tire of boring stories, do you?" I asked sarcastically. "It's really not all that interesting."

"Please," Emily begged.

"All right," I said. "I began working at the fish market the day after I was married-"

"No honeymoon?" asked Emily. "Preposterous!"

"Emily, must you interrupt?" I asked, smiling. "Anyway, I began working at the fish market the day after the wedding. I wasn't very excited about the whole thing."

"So I agreed to go with him," Victoria said. "Even though I didn't like the idea of seeing fish put in cans."

"Father was showing us around, when we came to the area where they gut the fish," I continued. "I took one look at _that _procedure and-"

"Pissed yourself?" asked a member of a crowd that had taught Vivian profane expressions.

"_No!_" Victoria and I exclaimed. Emily kicked the skeleton across the pub.

"Love you, B.J.!" she cried.

"Why does everyone think I'm the type to wet myself?" I asked.

"You were," Victoria replied.

"Only until I was nine," I said with a pout.

"That always seemed like you, Victor," Emily laughed.

"And I didn't do that," I said. "I was sick to my stomach, and then I fainted. It was quite humiliating for my father. I can just imagine his colleagues saying, 'Victor? You mean the fainting, vomiting one?'."

"How perfectly awful," said Emily. "So you got a job in what you liked?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm still just starting. My coworkers say I need to go to college in order to be promoted." I sighed.

"Why don't you go to college?" Emily asked. "It's a wonderful opportunity."

I gave Victoria a little hug. "I have a family now," I told her.

"I'd love going to college as well," Victoria said. "But my parents would never pay for it. Mother thinks it's improper for women to have a college education."

"Oh," said Emily. "I don't think that to be very right."

"Neither do I," said Victoria. "But that's how society is these days."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" boomed a raspy voice. I looked up, and saw the skeleton Emily said was her husband. "The show will begin in five minutes! I repeat, the show will begin in five minutes!"

"Oh, no!" cried Emily. "Forgive me for leaving!" She got up, and began to run toward a door reading "Backstage".

I was trying desperately to remember the name of Emily's husband. I thought back six years, and finally, some words and a tune came to me:

"_Die, die, we all pass away…"_

"Bonejangles!" I exclaimed, looking at Victoria. "Emily is a _performer_! She does a show with her husband!"

"Daddy!" Vincent cried, running up to me. "Can we stay and watch the show? Please?"

"I don't know," I said. "Things can get a bit risqué around here."

"What does that word mean?" Vincent asked.

"Never mind," I said.

"It can't possibly be too bad," Victoria whispered.

"You've never been here before," I whispered back.

"Well, I've never been to any kind of show before," Victoria told me. I raised my eyebrows.

"You never told me that," I said. "You can stay and watch the show. I'll take Vincent and Vivian and find someplace to put them to bed."

"No," Victoria said. "I'm a bit nervous about this whole thing. You know I've never been anywhere outside of our town."

"Well, what are we to do with the children?" I snapped.

"I don't know!" Victoria replied exasperatedly. I sighed.

"We shouldn't quarrel," I said.

"No," Victoria replied. "I'm sorry."

"As am I," I said. "It's fine if they stay up later anyway." And with that said, we found a table, and sat down to watch the show.

**Phew! Wow, that was long! Sorry, folks, but I ramble. Please review nicely.**


End file.
